Detonate
by owlloveyou
Summary: She's given an opportunity to see millions of people suffer when she's presented with a strange power, her own - (hiatus, will possibly do rewrite in the future)
1. Old Dog, New Tricks

If I wasn't paying attention, it would seem like the train windows were passing by the opposite way. But as I focused, they passed forward smoothly, a slight whirring in the station from the wind passing through. I caught glimpses of myself in the train window, the wind pushed black pixie cut around gently, a few strands that whipped my cheeks. If I didn't have such delicate features, I'd be mistaken for a boy.

I watched as my reflection disappeared occasionally as the window moved each second, only for another to reappear, resurfacing my features. Dark brown eyes and a nose piercing caught my eye in the next window. Sharp cheek bones in the next.

Eventually, the train slowed to a stop, and I felt the angst rise from my stomach to my chest, dreading the walk inside of the crowded train. I hated humans, I hated myself, everyone around me. I've held this anger and contempt for humans for as long as I could remember, ever since I was young.

Stepping onto the crowded train only reinforced this loathing.

I could never lay a hand on someone, though, out of fear of repercussion.

I stared out of the window, waiting for my stop, imagining a catastrophe.

That'd be lovely, a catastrophe. I wouldn't have to lay a hand on anyone, and they'd all suffer, they'd all be distraught, wondering what they'd ever done to deserve their pain and suffering. Maybe the train could crash. Maybe a tsunami, or an earthquake, maybe both. One triggering the other, a complete and total disaster. If I was lucky, another war could start. Bombs dropping from the sky again, an air raid of fire and missiles. Complete destruction.

That'd be lovely.

Maybe I'd die, as well.

That'd be lovely.

A chill ran down my spine, forming goose bumps down my arms and back. I looked around the train, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe it was just excitement, thinking about the eradication of these humans, the intricate, infinite ways I could die.

I stepped off the train and made my way home, imagining different scenarios along the way. A gun shot here, the death of a wife. A bombing there, the death of multiple family members and children. A plane crash over my apartment building, an explosion from the impact, rupturing the gas lines underneath the building, explosions, fire. Everyone would die, no survivors.

That'd be lovely.

I opened the door to my desolate apartment, setting my school bag on the chair in front of the dining table. As I turned the stove on, I walked back towards the front door, picking up the mail I had stepped over upon walking in. As usual, nothing but spam and a letter from my mother, who lived down in Okinawa. I had come up here to University, settling in Mushiyori since the campus was only an hour and a half train ride away.

I set the letter down on the sink as I filled a pot with water to boil, setting it on the stove. My mother was the only person I loved, the only person who wasn't worthy of death's warm embrace.

I opened the letter, excited to see her handwriting. What new information did she have to tell me? She treated her letters like a diary, telling me her inner thoughts and her days, and my heart warmed in excitement each time I received a letter. Even if telephones were available, my mother loved writing more than physical contact. Sometimes, she'd not talk to me at all in the morning as I'd leave for grade school, but slip a small note into my lunch, a little note, sometimes a story, a fairy tale or a history lesson. Then when I'd return home, she'd ask me what I thought about her story, and we'd converse for hours. My favorite were her history lessons.

I read my surname on the envelope, _Moriyama_.

_My little Kagura, _the letter started, _someone had visited your father's grave, adorning it with flowers. They were stunning, I never knew there were gold and pink roses. Their tips were orange! Kagura, it was beautiful. I wish I could show you; I wish you were here to see. It's lonely here, but your father's grave has been keeping me company as usual. I hope your grades are good, I'm hoping you keep your nose buried in your school books, how you always used to. Let me know when you will be able to come back and visit, I miss you dearly. Let me know how your new schedule will be, what your new classes are like._

I read the rest of the letter, replying to everything in my head along the way, as if I was physically conversing with her. I'd write to her tomorrow morning, let her know everything that she had missed these past few weeks since I'd last written her.

Steam rose from the pot, and I set the letter down on the counter. As I stepped up to the boiling water, my stomach began churning. An overwhelming feeling of vomiting plagued me, I broke out into a sweat. I turned off the stove instantly and ran into the bathroom, hoping I could make it to the toilet in time to vomit. I pressed my face against the toilet seat as my breakfast and stomach acid found its way into the toilet water.

Sharp, stabbing pains in my temple surfaced, appearing from thin air. I whined, cried, into the toilet seat as I expelled my lunch, the splashing sounds in the toilet and lurching movements of my body encouraged the migraine. Time passed as the light from the living room dimmed, as the sun set, the migraine subsided. I lay my face on the cold toilet seat, wondering where that spurt of sickness came from. I wiped my mouth with toilet paper and sat back against the wall, careful with my movements, not wanting to trigger another vomit-migraine trip to the toilet seat.

I steadied my breathing, and looked around the bathroom, wondering what time it was. As I looked up at the lights, one exploded, spiking the migraine. I yelped, covering my face as glass shards flew around the bathroom, and carefully lowered my arms to see the damage. I stared at the broken light bulb, wondering why it'd exploded.

Had I done that?

I thought about it again, exerting mental pressure, and increasing the headache, onto the next light bulb, and I watched it explode. I covered my eyes with my arms as shards flew around the bathroom, and lowered them again as I looked around the bathroom. Some left over vomit that I missed trickled down my chin as my stomach began churning again. I looked around my dirty bathroom, glass shards everywhere, little bits of vomit on the floor surrounding the toilet. But the shards... I had created an explosion... a beautiful, dangerous explosion.

How lovely.

* * *

**A/N: **T for gore and language. No romance, no sexual situations.

I've been thinking about doing another story, but with doing Schizophrenia (which is nowhere near finished [published-wise], might I add), I'm not sure if I should start another story, especially with the way I tend to end up hating everything I write and then deleting it. So, I decided to post a preview! If people like it, I'll try to continue it. This one would be short, much shorter than Schizophrenia, and I won't be able to update until my summer break.

Maybe I'll leave it up for me to play with every so often if people like it, updating sporadically.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I don't own YYH, its characters, or the plot, merely my own OC's.


	2. Audience

I stared at her neck, waiting for her throat to burst. Maybe I could rupture her trachea first, the explosion could tear her esophagus. I could force the explosion to rip through her muscle tissue and skin, let her neck bleed out. A fountain of blood would be lovely.

But as I concentrated, nothing happened. The skin above her collarbones sunk in gently as she took in a breath, momentarily stopping her conversation to breathe. She was a talker, I only had one class with her and I was sure that was her favorite hobby. She'd talk about any and everything, and her words were always exclaimed, emphasized as if even grabbing coffee earlier this morning was something exciting.

I wanted her throat to burst so I could see how exciting she found that incident, hear how exciting the experience was.

But her throat stayed intact.

Disappointed, I looked above her seat, finding the lights that hung from the ceiling. I was tempted to exert pressure, cause them to explode, but I didn't want to hear her talk about it for the next two hours. Instead, I looked in front of me, two desks away. Someone's pencil lay alone on the desk, and I stared at it for a while, debating on whether or not it would explode.

Only one way to find out.

I exerted pressure, and the pencil broke apart, sending wooden and lead shards across the room. The group of girls screamed, the boys next to me yelped in surprised.

"What happened?" Someone asked from the far side of the room.

"I don't..." One boy got up and looked around the desk the pencil had been lying on. "I don't know."

"This place is haunted!" A girl yelped, she had been there a few hours ago when I'd caused the windows in the theater department's building to crack.

"Moriyama, did you see what happened?" A brunette boy asked me.

I was a bit nervous at first, wondering why he asked me, until I realized I was the closest to the little explosion.

I shook my head, feigning innocence with wide eyes and a well-scripted expression of confusion. A small group of young adults clambered around the room, gathering their things in haste to leave. It was just a pencil. I'd give them something to leave over, so they didn't look like wimps.

The row of lights above them shattered, and I watched as a chorus of yelps and screams erupted around the classroom. Many of them began gathering their things, and I began packing my stuff as well. The room cleared out in seconds, leaving me to be the last one walking out. I plastered a scared mask on my face, pretending to be freaked out. But as I stepped into the hallway, none of my classmates were present, they had disappeared in the crowd as people from the hallway peered inside the classroom to see the damage.

"What happened?" A short girl asked.

I shrugged, feigning innocence once again, "The lights exploded."

She turned her attention from me and peered inside the classroom through the door as I slipped away from the gathering crowd. A feeling of pride and power warmed over me as I walked down the hallway.

* * *

Excited and intrigued with my new-found abilities, I decided to go back to Mushiyori. I could find a quiet, lonely area to mosey around in, playing with this new ability. But I was tempted in the train to play with my abilities now. I sat on the seat with my school bag huddled close to my chest, pushing my blue t-shirt upwards to reveal a small glimpse of my stomach. My jeans were a bit tight around my waist, bunching up a small flab of skin above my jeans. It was fine, though, because my school bag hid the little roll that made me look chunkier than I actually was.

I thought about it for a while, should I blow out the railing? The train was still crowded despite it being nearly noon, and it would be a lovely disaster.

But then, I would die in the process as well, and I wouldn't be able to have any more fun.

I'd control myself, I'd wait.

But my anticipation built up as I waited to arrive at a dismal construction site. Seemed to be abandoned, or maybe the company hadn't sent in its workers yet. There was some equipment left around, so I was unsure. But I'd take advantage of what was around. Some plywood, multiple tool boxes, small objects that wouldn't be fun.

But this unfinished building that stood in front of me was begging me to knock it to the ground. The cement walls were solid, just like the pencil and the glass from the light bulbs. I could do this.

I looked upwards, seeing the height of the unfinished building, it was at least five stories high, no roof, construction bars stood tall in the sky. I backed away from the building to a safe distance, expanding my territory as I exited the construction site. I exerted pressure onto the cement walls near the ground, watching the wall explode, multiple little bombs detonating within the walls. Clouds of debris flooded the air around the building as its structure began to wobble. The construction bars collapsed, toppling down. The building began to sink onto the ground, shaking the earth below me as it collapsed.

I backed away from the destruction, shielding my eyes from the dusty debris that flew my way.

I waited a few minutes for the cloud of debris to clear, and the collapsed structure came into view. If only there were people inside of the building, this would have been even more amazing.

* * *

I was a few blocks away by the time I saw flashing lights accompanied by sirens hurling towards the destruction. I looked backwards, watching the fire trucks wail off into the distance, towards the setting sun. That was no fun, come back.

I stopped in my tracks, exerted pressure on the window from the shop next to me. Shattered glass flew onto the passerby's, a few people shielded their face from the flying shards. Some chaos ensued as people began running off the sidewalk and into the street, stopping traffic, causing small collisions and fender benders. Horns blared as the people screamed, and more windows shattered along the street.

In the midst of the chaos, of people running off the side walk, crouching down and shielding their heads on the side walk, I looked around to take in the the disaster, and found a taller, darker skinned man. Our eyes met briefly, and fear sunk over me. I had been found out.

But he was slightly amused at my entertainment, there a strange twitch in the corner of his lips. I watched as he disappeared into the crowd, flashing lights took my attention as police pulled up to the scene. I continued walking, making my way from the scene as the police stepped out to calm everyone down and direct traffic. I should have been more careful, being found out wasn't an option.

But it shouldn't have been easy for him to notice it was me... I stopped walking, and turned back around, and looked for the taller man in the crowded street. He was still there, in the middle of the crowd of bystanders, watching the damage and chaos subside by the work of the police. I marched back towards the crowd, curious as to if he had some power like mine. Maybe that's why he recognized the chaos was my doing.

I pushed my way into the crowd, and he stayed put, as if he was waiting for me to return. The police set up yellow tape around the perimeter of the destroyed area, the owners of the shops were being interrogated by other police men who had recently arrived to the scene.

I walked up next to him, standing still to control my pounding heart, not wanting to say anything yet. It was dangerous to talk to someone about this, if I was found out...

I had to think of a neutral conversation, one that I could back myself out of if it became apparent he had no idea what I had done. But he beat me to it.

"The building was your doing," his voice was calm, he never looked towards me.

He kept his eyes on the scene, not drawing attention to either of us. His words were drowned out by the other bystander's conversations, all muffling over the other, gossiping about what could have happened. I stayed quiet and watched a medic come tend to a woman who'd gotten glass in her eye. My heart started pounding, goosebumps appeared on my arms out of excitement as she cried, hyperventilating in an attempt to subdue her pain. He looked down at me briefly to see my unusual smile, one of pride, and returned his vision to the scene.

"If there was a way you could create destruction, at a larger magnitude than this, would you be interested?" He asked.

I looked up to him, intrigued.

Was this a trap? A set up to arrest me?

Who would actually believe him, though? There was no proof I destroyed the building or caused any of this.

I looked from him back to the scene, watching medics clean small cuts inflicted on passerby's from the flying shards.

"I'm listening," I replied.


	3. I Would Do Anything For You

My breathing escalated, sharp inhales, shaky exhales. The screams from the TV screen were exciting, exhilarating. Pain, homicides I'd never dreamed of, suicides so elaborate I'd never have guessed... My favorite was the torture, the intricate ways to mutilate a human body, to mutilate genitals and, my favorite, eyes. The prying of eyes from their sockets was so lovely, so horrid and ponderous.

What did it feel like to have someone's fingers dig into the crevices of your eyes? Tweezers or priers, slipping into the crevices, reaching into the back of the sockets, and sometimes puncturing the sclera and protruding into the choroid, pinching it in between your priers, or if you're lucky, your nails... and ripping it out. Leaving it alone to dangle by the optic nerve, bouncing against the blood stained cheek.

Fascinating.

I had never thought of putting my hands on another, I merely preferred to watch their pain from another source.

But this lovely piece of work, this lovely video...

But even my stomach couldn't handle the scenes, despite my head taking in each new scene, each new intricate, disgusting way to mutilate someone, I began to retch violently. Eventually, a pale beige, soft mush flew out of my mouth and onto the dirt ground in front of the couch. I picked my head up to view the screen again, fascinated, completely indulged in the complexity of the human mind. The vomit spilling down my chin was nothing to me, barely a nuisance, as I continued to glue my eyes to the screen.

I never knew we could be so filthy, all this time I felt so alone in my train of thought.

His firm hand turned off the TV, and he stood next to the black screen that had just shown me beauty, art.

I could feel goosebumps on the back of my neck, my arms shook violently in excitement.

"Turn it back on," I said without conviction, it came out almost as a question, a plea.

He looked down at me, sneering, a snub expression plastered on his face. The serene quiet of the cave allowed me to hear the cries and jeers from behind the barrier that held demons in their place. Restricted from entering the human world. I had never thought demons were real, they existed in my fantasies, serving as evil, murderous villains. Fairy tale characters.

"You're an example," Sensui said, dragging my attention to him as he turned to the tunnel in front of us. "Of why this tunnel is opening."

Even if I was the perfect example of his hatred for humanity, I didn't mind. I was being given an amazing opportunity to create a disaster, a catastrophe. Even if I was going to end up dead in the end, it'd be amazing to witness everything first hand.

"When it's opened," I stood up, my body trembling. "The footage on this video... They can... I can see the destruction, can't I?"

I gulped, excited, "I can see this art in action?"

A strange smile replaced his sneer, he had recruited me easily, "Of course."

I stood still, shaking for a few minutes in excitement.

That meant my mother would suffer as well.

I loved my mother.

But I loved this form of art more.

I turned around, viewing the opener of the tunnel, a light blue haired man named Itsuki.

I peered over to him, and he opened his eyes to meet mine, but soon, within seconds, turned his gaze to Sensui. There was a strange look, one I was unsure of Sensui noticing, one of pleasure and slight admiration. It was a look I'd seen him give Sensui before when I arrived, a default expression that appeared in Sensui's presence. I turned back to Sensui, looking up his tall, broad frame. He was much harder to read than the gatekeeper, I was unsure if he noticed the way Itsuki looked at him from time to time.

A look of pleasure, enjoyment in Itsuki's eyes, slightly curled ends of his lips.

A strange pleasure between the two.

* * *

About two hours away from Mushiyori, I was early to my appointment the following day. I decided to stop by a local salon, trim my hair.

The light brunette haired woman was tall, refined. If I didn't have this territory, I'd be unnerved. She seemed strong and, if put in a situation, would handle it with ease and strength. Though I was a nice five-foot-five, the only combat quality I held was some beginners kick-boxing, a class I took as an elective last semester to receive an Associates in Business, satisfying my general education requirement.

But I'd been requested by Sensui to leave my territory alone until asked.

She gently dragged her fingers through my pixie cut, flaring it upwards into an edgy look, as the front door opened. A red headed young man walked in, accompanied by a petite blonde, American girl. I watched them through the mirror, viewing their reflections.

"No, I'm here to talk to Shizuru," The American replied quietly to the cashier, her forest green eyes confused me as she spoke perfect Japanese.

I stared at the girl through the mirror as she sat down, curious about her. The little beaut was darling, but there was one major flaw that obviously deterred people from her, it was noticeable upon her face as she sat down in the waiting area. At first, I thought she was just upset, tired, but as she turned to the red head next to her, a smile formed on her face and I realized she wasn't upset at all.

The little girl just had what I enjoyed calling "chronic bitch face."

The type of face where you're happy, or at least not upset in the slightest, but you constantly look agitated, smug, like you're better than the world around you. Her small lips pouted out of instinct, not because she was upset, and her round eyelids hung a tad bit low not because she was tired or unamused with the world, as it seemed, but because it was simply her face.

"You're done," the taller woman said, whipping off the cape as a mist of spray covered my hair.

I tipped the woman and paid at the cashier, and left, tracing the uncolored tattoo on my left arm as I made my way to the only tattoo parlor in Japan for dozens of miles. Upon entering the smokey, white-hazed tattoo parlor, I stepped up to Kobayashi and signed in.

"You're early," he grunted, his thick cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth. "You're paying on time too, you know that, right?"

"Yeah," I replied, looking for my artist in the slightly hazed parlor.

"He's in the back, he's ready. Go ask if he'll take you early," he said again.

His voice was intense, it could possibly cause an earthquake if you could get him to yell.

I walked up to my artist, and he looked up me, not surprised in the slightest I was here early.

"Hayashi," I nodded to him and he returned my gesture.

"Sit down, Kagura," He said, dragging the tattoo chair over towards him. "I colored it in, tell me if you like it."

He pulled out the sketch, completely colored and shaded. The uncolored version lay neatly on my arm, from my shoulder to my wrist. I looked over the coloring, blue and white shaded waves of the sea in the background, atop of them lay golden roses that gradient to pink, with orange tips, my father's favorite flower. The roses traveled on green vines throughout the length of my arm, spiraling around.

"Perfect," I mumbled as he began gearing up.

"Get ready to stay a while," he said. "Hope you didn't have any plans today."

"Not for a while," I smiled as he got his ink. "Not today."

* * *

"Masaru," I gently wrapped my fingers around the Chemistry major's neck, caressing it.

He shivered slightly, jumping a bit at my presence and stroking. I had the poor boy wrapped around my finger. I had decided to stop by the university before going home. The train ride was over an hour longer than necessary, but I was too excited with the idea that had popped into my head on the train. Masaru stayed on campus, in dorms, and I knew I could find him here in one of the labs, even though it was closing in on ten, the full moon bright outside the window.

Two other people were in the lab as well, but they ignored me as I toyed with Masaru.

"Can I ask for a little favor?" I leaned in, resting my chin on his shoulder gently.

"S-sure," he gulped as I swung around his body, planting my self on the desk in front of him.

I may have been tomboyish in features, often being mistaken for a boy until they noticed my developed body, but I took advantage of my skill in theater.

"I'm going home to see my mother this summer," I said, looking at my recently painted nails, admiring the way the blue nail polish blended with the blue shading of the waves on my wrist. "And I wanted some firecrackers to take home with me to show my mom, so we could celebrate during a summer festival."

"You want me to make you some?" He smiled eagerly, his cheeks lifting his glasses slightly as a smile spread across his face.

"Would you do that for me?" I smiled, placing my finger tips upon my chest.

"Of course," he became excited, his book trembled slightly in his grip as it lay on his lap.

If I had taken a science route for a major, I'd do it on my own. But all I had to my name was a major in business and a minor in theater.

"Thank you so much, Masaru," I ruffled the side of head, messing up his hair. "But I need them soon, how quick do you think you can get them to me?"

"How many do you need?"

"A lot," I smiled, flashing my pearly whites. "As many as you can make."

"I can have a few ready for you tomorrow night," he was excited as he hopped up from his seat.

If this boy wasn't blinded by his little infatuation for me, he'd be suspicious of why I needed them as soon as possible and not months from now, when summer was actually rolling around.

* * *

**A/N: **There are references between this story and my other, Schizophrenia, but you don't need to read both to understand anything. This one's going to have much slower updates.


	4. Hello, Dolly

**A/N: **After two months, I finally bothered with writing a new chap. LOL, this update is a serious YOLO.

* * *

Over the soft rumbling from the truck's engine, I wondered if the demon a few hundred yards away could hear me humming. Because if they could hear me, then Mitarai was definitely fucked.

Makihara was in the driver's seat of the pick up truck, waiting patiently for our departure. Mitarai was closer to the cave, lurking about in the weeds of the empty lot. He was scoping out the enemies and their plans, overhearing their thoughts on the current matters. He was also assessing our target, the man who can tear dimensions.

Itsuki said something about it being essential to opening the tunnel or something. I seriously wasn't paying attention, to be honest. I was just laying back, watching the demons squirm around behind the barrier, waiting to be let free and go on a slaughter, a rampage.

Our target was in sight.

From the coincidentally perfect clearing of the trees where we were situated, I could see the small figures ahead, faintly moving in the distance. I would only hope they wouldn't suspect the broken down warehouse they were near to be our conventional hide out, as I had bitched enough to Sensui about the damp smell of the cave to push him to let me convince our meetings in there.

Meetings. I say that as if we all gather around a table in business attire and discuss the status quo of our plans.

We gathered sporadically, and sometimes not all of us were present. Those who were called had a mission and were given orders, if you weren't needed you didn't get a summmoning.

That's why Makihara and I were parked in the middle of the woods, waiting for all those douche canoes to make their way out of the lot so we could park there. The lot was relatively run down, a nice, new truck would look out of place, especially to the demon boy they dragged along. He was supposedly the smart one in the group, so if that rang true he would have found the car suspicious and snooped around in the warehouse.

It wasn't like we laid out anything there. But who knows what they could pick up, a strand of Sensui's or Itsuki's hair would fuck us all over.

"Makihara, how much longer?" I sighed, wondering if they could hear me from hundreds of yards away. "Can't we have fun or something?"

"It wouldn't be a good idea to start an unnecessary battle," I barely heard his voice.

"But this is boring," I latched onto the trunk of the truck and hoisted myself up to sit on the ledge. "What do they seriously need to look for? They're not going to find anything unless they're smart enough to realize the tunnel's underground."

"They probably already know that," Makihara replied. "Doesn't mean they won't scope out the area."

"Unless they're going down there, I don't see a point in waiting around," I cupped my chin in my hand as I waited, bored out of my mind.

I wanted excitement, and now was the perfect time for it. I doubted that they'd all rush at us at once, especially if they were on the defense. They had humans with them, and there was only one demon capable of combat. And I hazard to guess he'd stay behind and care for his little platoon.

Alright, time for a little fun!

"Kagura..." Makihara shifted slightly in the driver's seat, eyeing me from the rear view mirror to see my proud smile.

I was going to have fun, whether he liked it or not.

Expanding my territory, I watched as the demon shifted instantly, eyeing me from afar. I slunk back into the bed of the trunk as Makihara stepped on the gas pedal. I was lucky we had to skid out of the woods in their direction, at least at a range close enough to put them into my territory briefly to have some fun. Makihara was an exceptional driver with this truck, and as I expected him to, he sped up to a good eighty miles-per-hour.

Passing through the small trail with ease, I steadied myself in the bed, gripping onto the ledge of the trunk to keep myself from falling. I was going to have to brace myself when he'd skid out of the woods and shift gears. The force of gravity could knock me out of the trunk and fling me off into the distant, essentially getting myself caught by the enemy.

I shoved my foot into the wedging between the door and side as we closed in on them, features of the targets becoming clearer. Soon, within less than a minute, they'd been enveloped in my territory.

That meant I could have some fun.

I'd planted the mock m80's in the ground around the lot for a worst case scenario, or for something just like this. Right underneath them were firecrackers. Normally, they could take a few fingers, maybe a hand. But with my territory, they could explode in such a manner to take someone's leg off. That'd be such a lovely sight to see.

Makihara exited the clearing, leaving a good twenty feet between our car and the group of four. Steadying myself with the shift of the truck, I crouched slightly to keep myself from going overboard.

The demon of the group, the red head, stood protectively in front of the cute little girl with blue hair, while the other two boys huddled together. The main target became offensive, readying himself, though warily, for an attack. With one, quick, deep breath, everything seemed to slow down.

I noticed the awkward cell phone in the demon's hand, and I pointed my index finger at it, playing my hand into a pretend gun.

"Bang!" I couldn't help but laugh with excitement as I pulled the fake trigger, causing the cell phone to explode in his hand.

He flinched, surprised, and stood his ground as defensive. Though this was just the beginning.

Makihara skidded slightly as he shifted gears into a U-turn, and I stood up proudly, ready to play.

Both play guns up, I enjoyed the few moments I would have to play Cowboys-and-Indians. I pulled the trigger again as I exuded pressure, and only a foot away from the blue haired girl did an m80 explode. And I pulled the trigger again, left—right, left—right, left—right. M80's exploded around them, causing disarray and disaster. Clouds of smoke and dirt floated around the area as they scrambled around for safety.

They wouldn't have time for an offense, they would be too busy keeping each other safe, especially since three of them were human.

Adrenaline coursing through me, I continued my game, hoping that I'd land a hit in and take a limb.

But Makihara had reached a solid ninety miles-per-hour, and they quickly left my territory as I trailed off into the distance. I was tempted to jump off the truck and head back, but that'd lead to a broken leg and being captured. I could have so much fun that way, though... Being captured, wreaking havoc on my enemies at a close range, exploding anything in sight around them. Something could get caught in their eye, maybe something sharp would lodge in their throat.

But I held myself back as the figures turned to dots in the distance, waiting patiently for what I hoped would be an exciting battle in the future.

* * *

"You can't just do whatever you feel like, Kagura!"

Mitarai's voice grated on my nerves like no other. I was willing to shove a phone in his mouth and make it explode, just to shut him up. He was the boy we tossed aside and excluded. The seven did it in a very subtle manner, but I was more brash. I understood why they had that air of annoyance with him, he was weak-minded. I hazard to guess he was treated like this by other humans, which was why he didn't react much to our attacks.

"Shut the hell up, you were, like, right next to the warehouse anyways," I snapped, dragging my eyes briefly to Sensui before focusing them on the fourteen year old in front of me. "It's not like we left you hanging, some bait for the enemy or something."

"You're not his lap dog, you can't talk your way out of this one," he retorted, and I lunged at the blond, who immediately stepped back to avoid me.

Makihara's arm wrapped around my waist and dragged me away from him, and Sensui stepped between the two of us.

Sensui was the only person I took orders from in this sorry group. He gave me an opportunity for excitement, and he gave me a front row seat.

Of course I obeyed his every command. I was loyal. Reckless, but loyal.

"Kagura," His hand reached out towards me as he closed in on me, placing itself above my collar bone.

I could only feel like he was about to strangle me, but he wouldn't be that brash... right? I restrained myself from lashing out on the little pussy boy behind him, gripping Makihara's arms in anger to control myself.

"You're not going to make me regret recruiting you, are you?" My breath caught in my throat.

For some reason, after only a few days, I wanted nothing more than his praise.

Praise from someone who'd concocted such an evil, twisted scheme. It was as if I was looking up at a mentor... praise was essential from mentors.

"No," I snapped. "Of course not. It's not like I hindered the plan or anything."

"Mitarai could have been captured," Sensui explained calmly. "We can't have anyone with information put into the hands of our enemies. Even a child playing a board game knows it's detrimental when an enemy receives vital information."

"Well, yeah..."

Wary, I bit my lower lip as I realized how calmly he'd been speaking... He should have been much more, at least, irritated with me. He was calm, adorning the slightest, strangest sinister curve in his lips. I side glanced to Hagiri, who was waiting by the exit of the warehouse. Stoic, reserved, he eyed me carefully as I was dumbfounded.

Mitarai was going to be bait.

"I understand," I muttered as Makihara set me down.

"You don't act until I give an order," his hand never left my neck, though I was nervous in anticipation, wondering if he'd begin choking me to death. "You don't act on your own will or desire. You're my pawn in this game, and you follow my orders."

"I understand," I repeated my mumble as I side glanced at Hagiri again.

His hand slid off my neck, and Hagiri's eyes drifted to Mitarai as Sensui followed suit. I planted my eyes on the boy too, hoping to see Sensui lay into the boy for some petty reason. It was far fetched, but I could dream.

"Tomorrow, it rains in their city," Wait, he's not bait? Sensui was giving this little shit a job? You're fucking kidding me. "You'll be assigned to take down the target and bring him back."

"Okay, Sensui, quit fucking around," I scoffed. "Seriously? This little pussy? Couldn't hurt a fly if he wanted to."

"I'm more than capable, Kagura," he snapped.

"Yeah, capable of crying in the fetal position. Kill yourself, Mitarai," I turned to Sensui. "Let me handle that. I can bring him back."

"We need him alive," Sensui drawled out his words, not bothering to look back at me. "But you'll be accompanying him."

"Just send me alone, I might kill the kid before we get to the town," I growled at Mitarai, who stood his ground.

He only could because we were all present, minus Itsuki and Amanuma. Even the little sixth grader's balls dropped way before Mitarai's.

"No, you two will work as an efficient team," Yeah, that's probably not going to happen. I was going to slit this boy's throat. "Mitarai will take down our target, you will prepare for the ride back. You are his protection to ensure he obtains our target and brings him back safely."

"If you can't trust him to come back on his own..." I rubbed my temples, but held my tongue.

"Seaman will confront our target, _Kagura_," Sensui turned back to me... the same devious curves in the corner of his lips. The strange downcast of his eyes as he stared down on me, "You will not. That's an order."

"I understand," I mumbled once more.

"You both leave tonight," he continued, heading towards the exit. "You'll take a car, not the train. It's easier to take this hostage in private."

"What car? Makihara's truck?" I turned with him, watching him leave.

The train ride took around two hours, the car would be doubled with all the traffic. But safety and privacy was essential.

"He has a spare to lend," he replied, but my eyes drifted to Hagiri's, who seemed to be in on the sinister atmosphere that clouded the room.

There was something I didn't know about.

Hagiri threw me a set of keys as he took his leave, following Sensui out the door. I took advantage of the situation to turn around to the blond boy I was now stuck with, and dragged a key across my neck.

"I'll fucking slit your throat."

And the little boy had an air of confidence, "You wish you could, Kagura."


End file.
